


Call Him Dad

by vesnake11



Category: The Prom - Sklar/Beguelin/Martin
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-30
Updated: 2019-05-03
Packaged: 2020-02-10 14:31:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18662284
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vesnake11/pseuds/vesnake11
Summary: A chronicle of the complex relationship of Barry Glickman with his she’s-basically-my-daughter





	1. Dear Winter

**Author's Note:**

> Rated T because AnGstY happens next chapter. All fluff here though. 2 chapters was an on-the fly decision; I wanted to capture the inevitable “YOU’RE NOT MY REAL DAD!” But that happens later. For now, some only partially canon Barry Glickman backstory. 
> 
> Both chapters inspired by AJR songs. This chapter is derived from Dear Winter from Neotheater.
> 
> THIS IS NOT FOR THE SONG EXCHANGE, I JUST LIKE MUSIC AS AN INSPIRATION.

Barry Glickman always wanted a kid. Ever since he was 18 and fell out of touch with his mother over his sexuality, he wanted to be able to raise a child and give them what he didn’t have anymore. The thought comforted him on lonely nights in his shoddy New York apartment when he was in his early twenties trying to make something of himself. It occurred to him one day; the perfect name. 

Winter. ‘Cause Winter is a badass name.

So then Barry Glickman made it big. He was grateful. Now he had money to raise that child he always wanted. He got a better house, a room saved for them. He planned to get a surrogate, but that child deserved more than one parent. He started being a little more active in the gay club scene, hoping for a chance to meet someone. But no one wanted a camp Broadway actor for a boyfriend, no matter how hard he tried.

In the meantime, he wrote brief notes to his child that didn’t exist yet. He put them in a shoebox in his dressing room. More specifically, in the pocket of his suit he never got to wear to prom, which was in the shoebox.

Dear Winter, I hope you like your name. I hope they don't make fun of you when you grow up and go to school, okay?

Dear Winter, I hope you talk to girls, or boys, or anyone you like. I just hope you don't stay in every night, 'cause I wish I was out tonight.

Dear Winter, I hope you like this song, and even when you're 13 and you scream at me for parenting you wrong; I hope it's still a badass song.

Dear Winter, I hope you like your name. You know I cannot wait to teach you how to curse.

Dear Winter, don't move too far away and please don't say I'm hovering when I text you to ask about your day. I wanna hear about your day. 

Dear Winter, I hope you like your name. I hope you let me take a shot with you on your 21st. But shit, you gotta ask your other dad first.

Then they got a little duller. Less hopeful. 

Dear Winter, I'm looking for your other dad. I gotta find a boy that doesn't mind that I'm inside my head a lot. Winter, it won't be too long, first, I just gotta find your other dad.

The last letter Barry Glickman ever wrote to Winter; He was 30.

It really doesn't seem like there's anyone for me. But dear Winter, I hope you like your name. I'm hoping that someday I can meet you on this Earth.

That night, Barry Glickman went out on stage to accept his second Drama Desk. He got caught up in the publicity. He forgot about the letters. He forgot about the child, the non-existent child who grounded him through fame. He became a narcissist. What he didn’t remember, keeping the letters inside the pockets of the silver tux that symbolized, to him, a new leaf. A new, back when he bought it for prom, sense of independence that would leave him hopeful years later.

Little did he know, Winter would come to him in a different way. The girl he would love in almost 20 years time was born on that day; the height of his career.

17 years later, Barry Glickman’s Broadway career is in the toilet. He co-starred in the flop Eleanor: The Eleanor Roosevelt Musical, and now no one in that show will ever be respected. Needing good publicity, he travels to Indiana to get that publicity when a 17-year-old lesbian is forbidden from taking her girlfriend to prom.

This is where Barry Glickman found his Winter. She was a 17-year-old lesbian from a small town Indiana. She was mocked by her peers, not for her name like he once worried his Winter would be, but for who she loved. Her biological parents kicked her out for it.

His Winter was Emma Nolan. He saw a part of himself in her. Being 17 wasn’t a time in his life he wanted to remember, but his Winter was struggling. He threw himself aside to help her; trying to step in and be her father figure. He was there to get her ready for the first prom. Upon it going wrong, Barry was there to console her. Upon the temporary break-up, Barry brought chocolates. He saw her on her bed, running on no sleep, but crying softly. She sobbed into his chest; he cared none. Instead, he was feeling his own heart twist as he left her room upon her request. She would never know how broken he felt hearing her sobs through the door, hearing her punch every square inch of her bed repeatedly because it was her only way to cope. Days later she ran to him, ecstatic that she had the courage to tell her story. 

The only words he could muster were “I knew you could do it. I called you the bravest person for a reason.”

Cue the tightest hug Barry Glickman has ever received. And the biggest smile he ever smiled.

Now, they were at the second prom, funded by Ms. Dee Dee Allen. Barry leaned against a wall, pretending not to notice the way Emma lit up at the chance to talk to so many other LGBT kids. Instead, he caught the eye of Dee Dee, who attempted to speak to him from across the dance floor, but the bass was so intense the floor was shaking. She got to him.

“Buying Marion some wine in hopes it’ll help us deal with the noise. Want some? My treat.”

Barry smirked. “I think I’ll pass.”

“Alright.” With that, Dee Dee disappeared behind a wall of kids screaming Girls/Girls/Boys by Panic! At The Disco.

And with that, Barry heard a voice behind him. “Excuse me, Mr. Glickman, sir?”

He turned around to find a girl in a purple dress, looking sheepish.

“I thought I should introduce myself. I’m Alyssa--Alyssa Greene. I’m Emma’s girlfriend.” 

“Dear,” Barry chuckled. “Call me Barry.”

“Well, Barry, sir, I guess I just wanted to...thank you, I guess? For...being there, for Emma, I mean--when I couldn’t…”

“Gosh, are you both this awkward?” Barry asked jokingly. He regretted it as soon as Alyssa began to speak.

“N-no, sir! I hope not!... It’s just that--this...this is the closest thing I’ll get to meeting her father. I mean--Emma, she’s told me you’re like a dad to her. So, I better not screw this up!...”

Barry spoke again, sticking a hand out for it to be shaken.

“You mean a lot to my girl, Alyssa. Don’t break her heart, young lady, and don’t stay out too late; or you’ll have to live through an intense choreography composed by me.”

“Okay Barry,” Alyssa chuckled. She shook his hand, turning away quickly. Under her breath, she mumbled to herself. “I just gotta find her…”

So, Barry Glickman was now standing against a wall in his silver tux, watching his dreams come true, and thinking to himself. Emma was really like a daughter to him. She thought he was a father figure?...

Then the memories rushed back. His notes. His wish for a child. The pocket of his… 

Without thinking, he reached in the pocket of his suit jacket. The post-it notes. They were still there. They practically leapt out at him. Dear Winter...Dear Winter...Dear Winter… he read them over. He got lost in a world of nostalgia as he did. By the time he finished, a slow dance song had every teen in that room hypnotized. They finally got their wish. In the crowd, he spotted Emma and Alyssa dancing together. He smiled, watching as they locked lips, but somehow kept in time.

His Winter was Emma Nolan.

He may not have watched her grow up, but he would be there from now on.


	2. Okay.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Same as before, but ANGST.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: EATING DISORDERS  
> Inspired by Karma from Neotheater.  
> Listen to Neotheater y'all, I'm--

I've been so good, I've been helpful and friendly. I've been so good, why am I feeling empty? I've been so good, I've been so good this year.

Emma hated being a burden. Maybe it was the slight abandonment issues she was dealing with, maybe it was the idea of being different that still irked her. After the prom, she had nothing to contain her from her own thoughts. She started thinking of her parents more often. She didn’t understand why they still resented her. She was a good kid; she thought. Before she came out, she cleared her search history like a good kid would do. Her parents didn’t want her on that site? Where’s the proof? She was an honors student. She wasn’t a chicken anymore. Shouldn’t they be proud? It always came back to her being a lesbian. She knew that. So why did this happen every week?

The same thing happened with the people she called friends before she cut her hair. She was good for them. Kept secrets, laughed at jokes, bought sodas from the vending machine, pretended she thought their crushes were cute, called every ex-boyfriend a bitch… But they stopped liking her for a year and a half over the fact she was a lesbian. That seemed to be all, but, because she was a good friend, she paid vague attention to gossip. She knew it always had more than one layer. It was complicated. It was a mess. It was a complicated mess.

A lot like her. 

This meant she had to change...to be better.

She couldn’t change that she was, in fact, a lesbian. But maybe there was something else, something she could control. It’s not like she hadn’t used this tactic. It was the only thing that kept her from punching 99% of people at school. Don’t prove their point; that you’re a psychopath. Although you feel like it. So why wasn’t it working? Why couldn’t they understand her point?

Another thing she could control was the numbers on the scale. She could stand to lose a few pounds. Then her parents and ex-friends would see her, slimmer than ever, actually beautiful for once, and be sorry. But she had to prove she was dedicated. Although, she couldn’t just not eat. Her grandmother and Alyssa would notice immediately. Then she was reminded; she could always purge. She could eat, but it would have no effect. But she set a rule, just in case. Remember that sugar is your worst enemy.

So she actually started doing it. She was weirdly proud of herself at first, but it only took half a month to realize this was about her own insecurities. Her own desire to fit in that still burned. And she hated asking for help. Now six weeks had passed. She was most of the way through summer vacation. Continuing this through her first year of college, which started in 2 weeks time, would be literal hell. She didn’t know how to stop. She hated herself with a passion; that was until she sunk down over the toilet bowl. But for now, she was home with Alyssa. Grandma didn’t trust the two of them alone, though, so Barry was here too.  
He cooked a nice dinner for himself, Emma and Alyssa. His cooking skills had surely improved in two months. Alyssa actually looked impressed as she began clearing her plate. That plate would eventually end up entirely empty. Emma eyed her plate inquisitively, staring down the mashed potatoes and steak. She pushed back a sigh so neither of the other two would get suspicious, and started with her broccoli.

With every swallow, it felt harder and harder to physically do it again. She soon ran out of broccoli, forcing herself to eat the steak. She hated it. She could feel the fat of the meat burning her brain. She winced. She shouldn’t be eating this, she knew that. Did she want to be ugly, want to be shunned? No. But God, Barry looked so proud of himself for this. Alyssa put her plate in the sink, leaving the dining room.

Then a pang of guilt hit her. What did she do to deserve these people? Nothing. She couldn’t make her parents happy, why did she get Alyssa? God, Alyssa did so much for her. Emma sometimes felt like she did nothing. Barry was worse. He put up with her crying, gave her confidence and a parental figure, and yet she couldn’t give anything back. It roared in her head that she wasn’t good enough for them.

But she could do better.

Without explanation to Barry, she stood up quickly. She began to realize that this was yet another problem for him to deal with. He was gonna hate her for this. That made it worse. This whole thing was stigmatized to only be dealt with by perfect girls who had to stay perfect. The stereotype made it more logical that Alyssa would be doing this. Barry just wouldn’t get it. It would be another problem Emma was too weak to handle alone. Her vision began to blur. This was conflicting. Make herself good enough for Barry and Alyssa or be a burden to them. That was a decision she made quickly as she ran into the bathroom, slamming the door shut.

She forgot to lock it, but she didn’t know that.

Instead, she fell to her knees in front of the toilet like it was an altar. The religion? The eating disorder she refused to admit she had. The eating disorder she was yet to realize was affecting everyone she loved. The eating disorder she didn’t know was taking over her life.

That’s where we are now.

She sticks her finger down her throat. Standard procedure. It doesn’t matter that Barry is here. He probably doesn’t care and won’t admit it. She was doing this for him, anyway. Him and Alyssa and the parents she would never say she wanted the love of. She begins to gag a little, and a wave of euphoria comes over her. Keep going. Don’t stop until every molecule of everyone else’s disappointments in you are gone. She reaches further. The sound of her gagging is audible now. A bit further and she finally manages it. The acidity; she got used to the taste by now. More importantly, it feels as if the demons from the depths of hell had been evicted from her body. It makes her feel like she is no longer the sinner everyone thought. She grins. 

That’s when she hears it. The muffled voice of Barry from the door, with several knocks.

“Emma?!” He sounds nervous, maybe even scared. “Emma, sweet cake, what’s going on?!”

She winces. In seconds, she hears the doorknob wiggle.

Oh shit, oh fuck, oh shit.

She breaks down crying. How does she explain this?

The door creaks open with a bang against the wall. Barry immediately locates her on the floor. Sobbing. Upon seeing this, he closed the door quietly, rushing to her side.

“Sweet cake, what happened?”

She knelt there like a deer in headlights. An inexplicable rage ran through her. She knew what it was, it was just the damn pet name. She was a lot more irritable nowadays. She felt terribly guilty again.

“Oh, no. Everything’s fine.” She stutters. She was a bad liar.

“You were throwing up, sweet cake.”

“I’m fine!” Emma repeats, louder this time.

“Easy, sweet cake…” Barry attempts to coax her, but the mania in the light of her eyes only rises. She’s shaking violently. 

“Are you feeling okay, sweet cake? You don’t look pale, but...”

“Stop calling me that!” Emma roars. If there was an echo in the room, the sound would’ve lasted 10 seconds.

Barry looks taken aback. “W—what?”

“Stop calling me sweet cake! The idea of cake is supposed to be repulsive, and I already know I’m repulsive!”

Barry connects the dots immediately. He takes a moment to process it all.

“I’m so sorry…” Emma could barely get the words out. “You definitely hate me now, I understand.”

Barry looks at her, bewildered. He tried not to yell, the poor girl couldn’t handle that right now. “Emma. I do not hate you. I could never hate you. I know you’re scared of letting people in, but I’ll always be here.”

“But that’s not enough!” Emma sobs. “You’re not my real dad, and I want my real dad to be proud of me! I want my parents back!”

“But, Emma, they hurt you.”

“I can change!” It sounds desperate.

“Make yourself sick for people who hate you?”

“Stop giving me advice, Barry! I don’t need it! I just turned eighteen!” She tries to push him away.

“Oh, baby girl…”

Emma’s anger sunk suddenly. “Is it bad I just want to fit in again?”

“No, but…”

“Then let me do this!”

Now Barry began to yell. “Let you kill yourself slowly and painfully?! No!”

“You’re not my real dad, you don’t tell me what to do!” Emma hollered back.

“I was there when he wasn’t! I still am!”

“What about the other 17 years?! What about Alyssa?!”

“Don’t rope her into this, Emma, I swear to God!”

“She was already roped in, I could do a little more for her.” Emma suddenly went quiet. “ I’m not really good enough for either of you.”

Barry went with the volume change. “Is that why?...”

Emma nods. “Why everything is a disappointment? I'm a terrible person.”

“No. You’re scared we’ll leave. I would be, too.”

“And I want things to go back to normal.” She admits.

“It can’t, baby girl. But you’re strong.”

“So, you’re saying I’m crazier than everyone else. Delusional.”

“No.”

Emma sighed. “Sorry for lashing out at you. I’m...kind of scared.”

“I know.”

The silence between the pair was thick in the air. Full of Emma's fear until she spoke again.

"The universe works in mysterious ways, but I'm starting to think it ain't working for me."

"The world comes around," Barry states quietly.

"Why has everything got to be so hard?"

"I don't know, Emma. But, hey, can you do me a favor?"

Emma nods. "I promise I'll follow."

"Try and keep track of how often you eat. How often you purge. How many meals you skip. Numbers don't lie, brains do. Put things in perspective. Then someone can help you."

"Alright," Emma stood up. "I'll try it."

She exits the bathroom and scales the stairs to her room. She finds Alyssa sitting on her bed.

"I've been wondering where you were. You worried me there," she says, pecking Emma on the cheek as she sinks down next to her.

And they would all be okay soon.


End file.
